


One Second at a Time

by almosthuman_butnotquite



Series: Guns for Hands [5]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Danse can't sleep, Fluff, He's thinking too hard, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 16:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6666043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almosthuman_butnotquite/pseuds/almosthuman_butnotquite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danse can't sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Second at a Time

Danse can't sleep. His mind is racing a hundred miles an hour and his whole body protests him lying still. He can hardly breathe, his ribs ache, and he's still struggling to come to terms with his identity. Maybe if Preston is there, he'll sleep easier.

Danse dresses in jeans and a T-shirt. Preston is on duty outside, patrolling the perimeter of Sanctuary. Danse thinks that he'll join him, so he grabs his laser rifle and heads outside.

Preston is on the bridge, looking south over the small stream there. Danse doesn't want to startle him, so he keeps his steps heavy. The weathered boards creak beneath his feet.

"Couldn't sleep?" Preston asks.

Danse leans against the rickety wooden railing. It groans beneath his weight. "No."

They stand in silence. Preston understands that Danse is going through some things, trying to figure out how he fits into everything now. He doesn't ask if Danse wants to talk about it.

"Snow should have followed her orders," Danse mutters.

Preston hates to hear him talk like this. "Danse, you're still thinking that?"

"Synths are an example of everything mankind has done wrong. The world is going to end all over again because of them, because of me."

Preston's hand is firm and warm against his wrist. "Not you. You're good, you're kind. You're fighting for a better world."

Danse looks away, away from Preston's kind eyes and the love in them. "How could you love me knowing what I am?"

"It doesn't matter to me. When I look at you, I see a man with conviction and a good heart, someone who wants to give the people of the Commonwealth hope for a better life. I don't see a man made of metal. I don't see what you see."

Danse meets Preston's eyes and he gives him a small, sad smile. He kisses Preston softly, a hand against his jaw. "Thank you."

Preston smiles and traces a scar that's tucked away beneath Danse's beard with a thumb. "For what?"

"Believing in me when no one else did." He licks his lips. "I know we didn't always get along, but it does mean a lot to me."

"I never thought you were a bad guy, Danse."

Danse sighs and looks toward the horizon, where the sun will be rising soon. "Snow said that you were the one to talk her out of following Maxson's orders. I... I would like to thank you."

"You don't need to."

Danse isn't sure what to say. He looks down at their boots, his own polished and shiny and Preston's scuffed and well-worn. Preston's hand is warm against his face, the pads of his fingers calloused. He has a scrape on his palm. Danse can feel the healing scab pressing against his cheek.

"Your cut." The scab is smooth in the middle and rough at the edges. "What happened?"

"It was a piece of glass."

Danse reaches up, wraps thick fingers around Preston's wrist, pressing against his pulse. He turns his head just enough to press his lips to the cut, his eyes closed. Preston's brow wrinkles.

"Are you sure you're all right, babe?"

"I admit that I'm tired. I haven't been able to sleep. I'm not sure I even need to anymore."

Preston glances back toward the main house where most everyone sleeps. It's dark, but the small house that Snow has occupied, the second one to their left, has a light on in the kitchen.

"I'll tell Snow that it's her shift. I think we could both use some sleep." He smiles. "I'll be right there, okay babe?"

Danse smiles too. "Yeah."

He goes to their separate house, just off to the right of the bridge, and he puts his rifle back down on the desk in the bedroom. He undresses once again and crawls back into their shared bed. He thinks that their mattress is too small, but it's the largest one they could scavenge. Preston lies close to him at night, and he certainly doesn't mind that.

The sun is finally coming up when Preston comes into the bedroom. He hangs his coat on the back of the chair at the desk and leaves his rifle beside Danse's. He joins Danse beneath the yao guai furs.

Danse can sleep now because Preston has fallen asleep against him, his breath slow and steady where it puffs against his chest. And he does sleep. He dreams of warm smiles and gentle hands, of dark eyes and soft lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated.
> 
> I also have a [tumblr](http://almosthuman-butnotquite.tumblr.com) if anyone is interested in hitting me up.


End file.
